Lygia Clark, the Brazilian Museum, and a Willing Hand: A Response to Lygia Clark: The I and the You at Whitechapel Gallery
Written by Maria Cicala
Lygia Clark is a household name in modern Brazilian art. To most, the artist conjures up slightly dusty black and white pictures of shiny aluminum sculptures and solid, minimalist canvases. Others recall the woman herself— the images that circulate—sitting elegantly with her arms crossed, perhaps a neck scarf charmingly tied, cigarette in hand.
Lygia Clark with her “Unidades” during the exhibition of Neoconcretists, Rio de Janeiro, 1959. Photograph via Cultural Association, “The World of Lygia Clark.”
After having seen Lygia Clark: Projeto para um planeta (Project for a planet) at the Pinacoteca de São Paulo this summer, I was eager to see how anglo-Brazilian curator Michael Asbury translated the same ideas (and many of the same works) for London audiences at Whitechapel Gallery.
Though the catalogue of pieces is nearly identical, it intrigues me how the divergent curatorial choices serve or challenge the binaries of the artist’s life. Their titles reflect the fundamental differences— in São Paulo, an emphasis on the collective with Project for a planet, underlining Clark’s devotion to the psychological universalism of the project, and The I and the You in London, focusing on the individualistic aspirations of her oeuvre.
Whereas the Pinacoteca boasted seven consecutive rooms, integrating the interactive “performances” along with Clark’s canvases and sketches in a linear but wholistic narrative, Whitechapel emphasizes the contrasts in the work and its development by presenting its three sections as rigid stages of development, segregating the audience participation from her more traditional practice, effectively constructing two separate portrayals of the artist.
The I and the You zooms into Lygia Clark’s work from the 1950s to the 1970s— a formative time for the country and its artists. As Brazil transitioned from democracy to full-scale military dictatorship in 1964, Clark’s work too transitioned from constructivist canvases to spearheading the Brazilian Neoconcrete movement. This period saw the artist turn away from her goal of subverting the canvas and instead taking a psychological approach to performance art and the artist/audience relationship.
Left: Lygia Clark, Superfice Modulada, 1958, view of artwork in situ, Whitechapel Gallery, photograph by Maria Cicala, 2024.
Right, (left to right): Lygia Clark, Maquete para-Interior no. 1, 1955, view of artwork in situ, Whitechapel Gallery, photograph by Maria Cicala, 2024.
The exhibition first presents Clark’s geometries on paper and canvas, as well as two maquettes of architectural models. We are confronted with a regimented, linear Clark. In the 1950s, the artist was most interested in subverting the so-called “fundamentals” of art which she had been taught in Paris. From this exploration came her organic line and the method of painting straight on wood, bypassing the canvas.
The temporary exhibition space in which they are shown is ideal for such works- though Clark’s 1950s practice was radical for its time, her paintings, sketches, and maquettes lend themselves well to the traditional museum. They are a subversion which can be contemplated in silence— inwardly stirring but outwardly safe for the gallery visitor.
Lygia Clark, Bichos, 2024 exhibition copies, view of artwork in situ, Whitechapel Gallery, photograph by Maria Cicala, 2024.
The 1960s saw Clark move beyond the canvas and into sculpture. Her most famous project is her Bichos, hinged aluminum sculptures which are meant to be manipulated and touched, subverting the stasis of traditional sculpture as well as the stasis of the idle viewer.
I remember my excitement at seeing the replica Bichos at the Pinacoteca, eager to engage with Clark’s vision for her work in a welcoming environment, surrounded by enthusiastic visitors doing the same. Gallery assistants encouraged participation, and the pieces were placed at various heights (with the lowest platform on the ground)- welcoming touch and manipulation to an extent Clark would surely approve of.
The grey cavern that is Gallery 1 at Whitechapel is daunting to say the least- surrounded by a handful of quiet guests, stoic gallery assistants, and a jarring echo, I had to encourage my friends a few times before they worked up the courage to even touch a Bicho.
Yes, this is the tension which Clark sought to disrupt with these pieces, but 60 years later our art institutions are yet to evolve beyond the pin-drop gallery etiquette the artist so opposed. The frustrating fact is that it has been done… I am here thanks to the open-door policy of the Brazilian museum. The emphasis on educational, family, and community projects have allowed me to engage with art (and the institutions which house it) in an unpretentious, welcoming environment in which there is no norm or expectation. You are as complicit in the art as viewer than the artist is as creative— it is utterly symbiotic and completely of the ethos of Lygia Clark.
In 1966, Clark declared herself no longer an artist and baptized her viewers “participants” of her psychological performance works which hinged as much on the viewer as it did on her intention. The art is in the act: it can never happen without a willing hand.
But what is a willing hand in the face of the institution’s conformity?
Lygia Clark removed herself from the art scene, the Pinacoteca removed themselves from the Western institutional norms to welcome her back… what happens when these intentions are instead at odds?
Tension, I can say confidently after meditating upon my visit to Lygia Clark: The I and the You. One which, if challenged institutionally, has the power to challenge everything. I only hope that shows like this can be the starting point for a wider movement of representing non-artists like Clark in the environments in which they once dreamed.
Lygia Clark: The I and the You will be on view at Whitechapel Gallery until January 12th, 2025.
Com Tempo (“In Time” in Portuguese) is dedicated to showcasing modern and contemporary Latin American artis and exhibitions of Latin American art in London.
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